


A Christmas Accident

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas Shenangigans, F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: An unfortunate accident on Christmas Eve ruins every plan Clara Oswald had for a quiet family holiday. Instead, she and the Doctor have to help Santa Claus with the delivery of presents, but Santa had a little more in mind…





	A Christmas Accident

**Author's Note:**

> My little Christmas present for you :) Hope you're all having a wonderful day with your loved ones!

Clara Oswald hated Christmas. Well, she didn’t hate _everything_ concerning Christmas, but she harboured a very intense dislike for a lot of things and that included crowds, shops - especially in combination - _Last Christmas_ on repeat on the radio, empty supermarket shelves, romantic comedies on telly and above all, the prospect of having her stepmother over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. Clara could deal with her father and her grandmother and she was looking forward to seeing them again, but as she stepped into her flat around noon on the 24th of December, carrying two heavy grocery bags, she couldn’t help but dread the impending visit of Linda and all the ways in which her stepmother was going to insult her cooking.

However, it was nothing compared to the dread she felt when she spotted the blue box parked on her carpet and as Clara vividly remembered the disaster from two years ago when a naked Doctor had introduced himself to her family as her boyfriend, she had no idea that this year’s Christmas surprise would be even… more surprising.

Clara dropped her shopping bags on the floor and marched off towards the living room. “Doctor, we’ve talked about this,” she complained loudly. “Apart from the fact that I don’t know how to explain your ageing process to my family, you are banned from-”

She broke off abruptly when she finally entered the lounge and her jaw dropped. Not only had the Doctor parked the TARDIS right next to her door, almost blocking the entrance, he had also brought company. And by company, she meant Santa Claus.

It seemed mad, even though probably not quite as mad as alien planets or spaceships, but Clara did stop for a moment to consider the possibility that she might be imagining the old, chubby man in the red costume who was sitting on her sofa. Last year, they had encountered him once before, but Clara had always just assumed that Santa had been nothing but a dream. Now, that dream was sitting in her living room with his leg in a cast and only after noticing that, Clara also spotted the elf obviously tending to Santa’s well-being while the Doctor was leaning against her shelf, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking doubtful.

“Um…,” Clara uttered once she had assessed the situation, “…hi.”

There was nothing else she could have said in light of the current situation. What was one supposed to say upon finding an alien, an elf and Santa Claus in one’s living room?

Santa and the elf both put on a bright smile and greeted her in return as if nothing at all had happened.

Then, Clara was slowly beginning to come back to her senses and she instantly directed her anger at the Doctor because there was no other reason why Santa Claus should be in her living room.

 

“Doctor, what is Santa Claus doing in my living room?” she demanded to know.

In response, the Doctor looked slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t reply. Instead, it was Santa Claus who spoke up.

“Yes, Doctor, what am I doing in this young woman’s living room with my leg in a cast? Please, enlighten the lady.”

If Clara wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of anger in his voice and suddenly, it made perfect sense to her. Well, not _perfect_ sense, but at least a little more. The Doctor had obviously done something and that never boded well for her. Somehow, Clara got the distinct impression that a quiet family Christmas once again wouldn’t happen this year. Was she ever going to have at least a hint of a normal life while the Doctor was around? And above all, did she even want that?

“There has been an… accident,” the Doctor eventually admitted coyly, now looking utterly uneasy as he shuffled his feet in a nervous gesture.

Ha! She had known it!

“An accident?!” Santa half barked at him. “It wasn’t an accident! You knocked me out of the way to get to the cheese, don’t deny it!”

“I was only playing by the rules!” the Doctor argued loudly. “And I did warn you that it might be dangerous, especially at your age.”

“Oh, _my_ age?” The old man huffed. “I’m at least 250 years younger than you, Doctor!”

“Okay, you two, I’m going to need some context,” Clara demanded, bringing their little spat to an abrupt end. The Doctor, Santa Claus, broken legs and cheese were not things that usually aligned in her head. “What exactly did you do and again, why is Santa in my living room on the 24th of December when he probably should get ready to deliver some presents?”

To her surprise, it was neither Santa nor the Doctor who answered her question, but the elf who had finally risen to his feet. When he spoke, he sounded more than just a little cross. “Santa and the Doctor participated in a Cheese-Rolling event.”

And just when Clara had thought that her day couldn’t possibly get any more bizarre, the elf just managed to make it worse. Her face lined in a deep frown of sheer disbelief.

“I’m sorry, _what?!_ Have you completely lost your mind, Doctor?” But as soon as she had asked, Clara realised that she didn’t even need an answer to that question. What she needed was her flat to herself to start her Christmas dinner preparations. “Nevermind that. Just take Santa and the elf and get them both out of here. I have a little more than twenty-four hours before my family shows up.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Miss Oswald,” Santa Claus replied gravely as he gestured towards his bandaged leg. “Unless you want Christmas to be cancelled this year, I’m going to need your help.”

“My help in what exactly? I’m neither a doctor nor a nurse and my medical knowledge doesn’t extend to fictional characters.”

“Oy!” both Santa and the elf shouted at the same time.

Finally, the Doctor cleared his throat and stepped away from the shelf, deeper into the room. His embarrassment was still apparent, but at least, he had decided to join their conversation now. “What Santa means is that he needs us to deliver the presents this year.”

Clara took a moment to let the words sink in. She and the Doctor. Delivering presents. After three years of travelling with the Doctor, he still managed to surprise her - and not always in a good way.

“Why us?” she wanted to know. “Why not Bill Gates or Bono or Prince Charles? They love charity work! Why you and me?”

“‘Cause it’s his fault my leg is in a cast!” Santa shouted from the back.

“Shut up Santa!” Clara hissed and pointed her index finger at him in warning before she reached out and grabbed the Doctor’s lapel, dragging him out of the living room and into the more private space of her bedroom where they could talk without the interruption of Santa or his elf.

Once the bedroom door closed behind them, Clara inhaled deeply, trying to let the recent events sink in. Less than ten minutes ago, all she had worried about were Linda and making a decent Christmas meal, she had pondered a bubble bath and thought about which book to read next, but that was before she had found Santa Claus sitting on her sofa. Now, Clara wasn’t sure she wouldn’t prefer Linda over whatever was going to happen next.

“I wanted a quiet Christmas,” Clara found herself complaining, uttering a heavy sigh as she kissed the thought of that goodbye. “Last year, we both got trapped in a dream crab nightmare scenario, the year before that you regenerated and I had to make a really awkward phone call, asking my father to pick me up from Glasgow after you abandoned me there. Just once, I want a completely ordinary Christmas with too much food and a family row. Is that too much to ask?”

The Doctor had been surprisingly quiet up until now and Clara watched as he bit down on his lip, looking thoroughly uncomfortable with the whole situation. “I’m afraid I’ve… um… already agreed on our behalf.”

“What?!”

“Look, I’ve got a time machine, remember?” he spluttered excitedly. “We’ll just pop in, deliver a couple of presents and you can be back at this exact moment. There will be plenty of time for too much food and a family row.”

Clara growled at him in response. She hated it when he used the time machine argument because she knew that even if everything went according to plan, the Doctor was far from reliable when it came to landing in the right time and place. They were more likely to end up on Mars than be back in time for a stressless Christmas dinner.

Still, Clara didn’t see how she had another choice when the Doctor had already made a promise, so she uttered one last growl in his direction before she eventually gave in.

“Fine.”

 

Back in the living room, Santa seemed to have made himself comfortable on her sofa when they entered and Clara noticed that he had propped his leg up with her favourite cushion and was slurping on a drink that looked like a cocktail. He didn’t seem to regret the unfortunate accident all too much while the elf fluffed up the cushions behind his back.

“We’ll do it,” Clara announced once she had grown tired of the scenario unfolding in front of her. She certainly wasn’t going to stand here and watch Santa take a holiday on the one day of the year where he actually had some work to do while Clara and the Doctor would soon be out there, doing the work for him.

“Excellent!” Santa exclaimed happily. “The Doctor has the stack of wish lists and I had my elves load the presents into the TARDIS. I’m assuming it’ll be quite an easy job with a time machine. Just make sure you aren’t seen because I have a reputation to uphold.”

“And just in case you _are_ seen,” a strange voice interrupted and when Clara turned around, she spotted another elf approaching with what, to her horror, looked liked a costume, “here is something for you to wear.”

The elf dropped the clothes in Clara’s and the Doctor’s hands - a Santa Claus costume complete with a fake beard and one for a smaller elf - and the Doctor’s gaze darkened instantly as he turned around to face Santa.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” he complained.

Father Christmas shrugged his shoulders and before it could turn into an argument, Clara decided to ask the question that had been on her mind ever since she had realised that there was no way out of this.

“Can we at least borrow your elves to help us?”

The two creatures turned around, looking incredibly insulted. “Borrow?!”

“Oh no, they’re here to tend to my needs,” Santa replied and swiftly handed the nearest elf his empty glass for a refill.

Next to her, the Doctor huffed angrily and even Clara got the impression that maybe Santa’s accident had been their bad luck rather than his. But there was nothing to be done about that now because the Doctor and Clara had presents to deliver.

* * *

“I look ridiculous,” the Doctor complained so loudly that Clara could still hear him in the console room. She herself had changed into the elf costume mere moments ago, so it was a sentiment she could understand all too well.

After a sigh, Clara raised her voice to call out to him. “Let’s just get this over with and never speak of it again, alright? I have a bubble bath to get back to and I have this nasty feeling that Santa might use up all the hot water.”

“Only if you promise not to laugh!”

Clara rolled her eyes in response even though the Doctor couldn’t see it yet. “I won’t, now come out!”

She heard his heavy footsteps before she saw him and even though Clara had promised him not to laugh, the laughter just burst out once she spotted him. He was wearing Santa’s oversized costume along with the boots, the fake beard was still hanging loosely around his neck and he was carrying the hat rather than wearing it, but combined with his grumpy, genuinely unhappy face, it was more than enough to cause Clara to burst into laughter.

“You’re not exactly looking very fashionable either,” the Doctor growled in return, pointing towards the green costume that was maybe a little bit too short even for her tiny legs, but in contrast to the Doctor, Clara had decided not to make a big deal out of it. It was only for tonight, after all, and their objective was not to be seen by anyone.

In response, Clara looked down on her bare ankles where the trousers didn’t quite meet the edge of her shoes and she shrugged. “It’s fashionable, I guess,” she replied. “And green is a nice colour.”

“You forgot your hat.”

Clara chuckled at him. “So did you,” she argued, nodding towards the last piece of accessory in his hands. “Now, let’s put it on and deliver some presents.”

Yet the Doctor didn’t budge. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at her and Clara didn’t quite understand why. “You seem awfully cheerful all of a sudden,” he remarked. “A few minutes ago, you were a lot less keen on the prospect of present delivery.”

He was right, of course, and given the choice, Clara might still choose her quiet Christmas over this hilarious madness, but as she had changed into her costume, Clara had had a moment to think about it. Ever since she had met the Doctor, her life had become one impossible adventure after the other and even though she hadn’t always had the initial excitement about a trip, she had never really regretted one either. And then there was the matter of Santa Claus who she had believed to be a children’s story for the longest time and who had only turned out to be real a year ago. Maybe, a part of her was actually excited about the prospect of _becoming_ him for the most important night of the year. Even after Clara had stopped believing in Santa, she had still loved the presents and it filled her with an almost childlike joy to be the one to make all those children smile on Christmas Day.

“Let’s just say I finally got into the Christmas spirit,” Clara said with a smug smile even though that wasn’t quite it. She and the Doctor were going to save Christmas this year. It wasn’t what she had expected to do today, but it was certainly something she would feel good about for the years to come. It was almost a shame she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. “Now, let’s have a look at that list.”

The Doctor and Clara both turned towards the TARDIS monitor and looked at the first name on their list. It was a boy named Sahil Bakshi who had asked for a new mountain bike and he lived in Clapham.

“That’s basically around the corner. We could take the Tube there,” Clara said and turned to look at the Doctor. “Are there only London kids on this list or is it like the entire world?”

“Santa has several delivery teams, remember?” The Doctor seemed relieved about the fact. “We’re just supposed to cover the south of England and Wales.”

Clara shrugged. “That sounds mildly less exhausting than the whole planet.”

However, as she turned away from the console unit to find Sahil’s present, Clara soon encountered the next problem. Somewhere between Santa’s accident and her agreeing to help the Doctor, the TARDIS had been transformed into a Christmas presents delivery vehicle and the entire console room, as well as some of the adjoining rooms, were overflowing with presents. The elves had only left a few corridors to walk through the massive stacks that covered every spot of the large room.

“A mountain bike,” Clara muttered to herself, scanning the stacks of presents with her eyes for something vaguely bicycle-shaped. Then she spotted it next to the stairs. “Oh, found it!”

While the Doctor entered the coordinates into his TARDIS, Clara went to retrieve the mountain bike and pushed it towards the doors just as the spaceship landed. Together, they opened the door and found themselves right in the lounge of a small London flat.

It was night now and all that illuminated the living room were the many Christmas lights the family had put up. Right there under the tree, Clara spotted a small stack of presents and she nodded towards the Doctor to place the mountain bike right next to them. Maybe, this was going to be easier than Clara had originally thought because as they stepped back into the TARDIS, she felt a sense of accomplishment and even pride. Their first delivery had been a success. But they had many more yet to conduct.

* * *

“Who’s next?” Clara asked with a yawn as she squinted her tired eyes at the TARDIS screen. Somewhere between the PlayStation for Rupert and the chemistry set for Chantal, Clara had lost track of how many presents they had already delivered. The stacks had become smaller and her legs a little achier as time passed. But they were far from done yet. The name Sabrina Roberts popped up on the list and Clara felt her heart sink as she spotted the town name of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch.

“I’m too tired for this,” she complained.

The Doctor frowned at the screen for a long moment and even though he was a Time Lord and didn’t need as much sleep as a normal human would, to Clara, he looked a little tired as well. “She’s asking for a keyboard. Have you seen a keyboard around?”

Clara let her gaze wander around the room and found several parcels that might fit one depending on the size of the keyboard. When she took a closer look, she eventually spotted Sabrina’s name on one of them. “Got it!”

Once again, the Doctor parked his TARDIS in the girl’s living room right next to the tree and they hurried out to place Santa’s present next to the others that were already waiting for little Sabrina. Together, they lowered the fragile instrument to the floor as carefully and quietly as they could. A few houses ago, the Doctor had accidentally knocked over some Christmas decor and they had had to hurry off before someone spotted them. Hurrying off was Clara’s original plan for this house as well, but the Doctor didn’t seem to be in a rush this time as his eyes fell on something on a nearby table.

“Look! They left us biscuits!” he announced excitedly and before Clara could stop him, the Doctor had pushed his fake beard down and reached for one of the biscuits, stuffing it into his mouth.

“They’re not for you,” she argued, “they’re for Santa Claus!”

Still chewing, the Doctor turned around to face her and as he pointed down at his own outfit, Clara realised how silly her argument had been. He was - technically - Santa Claus and her own stomach was rumbling quite a bit. Maybe stealing a biscuit wouldn’t hurt? After all, they had earned them.

Carefully, Clara started to chew on one of the macadamia nut treasures, only now realising how hungry she really was as she tasted the biscuits. They had _definitely_ earned them.

 

“That’s a strange sleigh.”

Both of them shot around instantly at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and to her dismay, Clara realised that they had been caught. Sabrina Roberts - or at least, Clara assumed that it was her - stood in the living room in her nightie, clutching a teddy bear in her hand and gawking at the two of them.

“Um… Doctor?” Clara asked cautiously, not really knowing what to do now. The plan had been not to get caught and for a very long time, it had worked out quite well. But how were they going to deal with the girl who had spotted them?

“Is that a fake beard?” Sabrina demanded to know, pointing right at the beard hanging around the Doctor’s neck. The girl’s frown grew deeper with every passing second. “You’re not really Santa Claus, are you?”

“Um, yes,” the Doctor replied once he had finally found his voice again. “Yes, I am Santa Claus.”

“But the beard.”

“Oh, um, I made him shave the other day cause…” Clara threw in and now started to rack her brain for a good excuse, “cause it got caught in all the tinsel. It was a right mess. But, obviously, he can’t go around delivering presents without the beard, eh?”

Still, Sabrina didn’t look convinced as her eyes wandered from the Doctor to Clara and she could feel the girl’s judging glance all over her.

“You’re really tall for an elf,” she noted.

The Doctor scoffed. “Nonsense, she’s a midget, look at her,” he replied, pointing at Clara. “But her clothes shrunk in the last wash.”

The disbelief on Sabrina’s face slowly started to turn into curiosity as her eyes wandered back towards the TARDIS which was still blue and looked as much like a sleigh as the Christmas tree did. “What about the blue box though? It’s not a sleigh and it’s not pulled by reindeer.”

“The sleigh is in the shop and this was all they had,” the Doctor explained. In a big gesture, he shrugged. “What can I say… this Christmas is all about poor planning.”

Knowing that they weren’t going to convince Sabrina with their silly excuses, Clara decided to intervene. Carefully, she approached the little girl and went down on her knees in front of her, smiling kindly. Clara remembered what it was like to be young and curious and she was sure that she knew the perfect way to convince Sabrina.

“Your name is Sabrina, isn’t it?” Clara asked in a gentle manner.

The girl nodded.

“See, how would we know that if we weren’t Santa and his helpful elf?”

Sabrina shrugged. “It says so on the sign on my door.”

In response, Clara chuckled. “You’re very clever for your age. Clever is good,” she told her. “Clever saved my life loads of times when Santa failed to steer his… sleigh correctly and we accidentally ended up somewhere really dangerous.”

“How dangerous?” Sabrina wanted to know.

“Well, let’s just say Rudolph and his pals can get a little overenthusiastic and we might have ended up on a different planet every now and then. The aliens weren’t always friendly with us. There are some really nasty things living on Mars.”

Finally, Sabrina started to laugh. “You’re making this all up.”

“Maybe,” Clara replied with a shrug. “What I’m not making up is that we are Santa and his elf and that there’s a present waiting for you under the tree. Now, if you open it tomorrow morning and it’s not what you asked for, we’re probably not really Santa and the elf. But if it is, then how could we have known if we’re not?”

The girl considered her assertion for a long moment, but from the look on her face, Clara knew that she had finally convinced her.

“Well, we better get going,” the Doctor said with his mouth full of biscuit, “still got presents to deliver.”

Clara knew that he was right, so she rose to her feet and followed him to the TARDIS. Yet before she stepped inside, she turned around one last time and waved at the little girl who would certainly be dreaming about Santa Claus and his strange blue box tonight.

* * *

“Are you perfectly sure this is the last one?” Clara demanded to know, throwing him a look that conveyed how unconvinced she was by his reassurance. The Doctor had proclaimed that they were finished multiple times during the last few hours and still, another present had turned up here or there.

With a tired expression on his face, the Doctor nodded. “Checked the swimming pool, the library and my own bedroom. This is definitely the last one.”

Clara blew the air out between her teeth in relief and even though it would be their last trip, she barely managed to muster up the strength to rise to her feet. Every bone in her body ached and even though she had almost forgotten about it during the longest night of her life, the prospect of a nice bubble bath came back to her mind. Just one more present, one more delivery and they would have finished.

At last, she rose from the chair next to the console unit and clapped her hands together. “Alright, let’s do this. Last present and then we can go back to my place, kick out Santa and have a cup of tea with some nice Christmas biscuits.”

For a moment, the Doctor looked as if he was about to suggest skipping the last present. Clara had never actually seen him tired and before tonight, she hadn’t thought that the usually energetic bundle of Time Lord could look so exhausted and beat. Now that she thought about it, it seemed almost sweet on him. The way he leaned against the console room in his crinkled coat and dusty trousers, his hair a mess and the need for sleep visible in his eyes, the Doctor looked almost human. Clara decided that despite her current state of exhaustion, she quite liked to see the vulnerable side of him.

But instead of saying anything, the Doctor turned his attention towards the controls and entered the coordinates for Mary Geller while Clara waited for the results. On the TARDIS screen, her house popped up on a map that showed a quiet street in Bournemouth and soon after, the upper part of the console unit started to spin as the time machine took off. However, the brakes were making a sound quite different from the usual one and as a frown appeared on the Doctor’s face, Clara suddenly found herself growing wary.

“What’s happening?” she wanted to know.

The Doctor didn’t reply. Instead, he entered the same coordinates once again and pulled the lever, obviously hoping for a different result that never came. The TARDIS took off, but never managed to materialise.

“Uh-oh,” he muttered to himself, a sound that Clara really didn’t like.

During their adventures together, she had encountered many situations that had prompted an _uh-oh_ from her, but when the Doctor said it, she knew that it had to be serious.

 

“Why isn’t the TARDIS landing?” Clara asked once again as she walked up to the Doctor to get a better look at him and the monitor.

Still frowning at the screen, the Doctor finally replied. “I’m not entirely sure, but I think the TARDIS doesn’t fit.”

“It doesn’t fit?”

“Yeah, as in it’s too big. Their house is too small. She can’t land because there’s nowhere for her to land,” he explained as the puzzled look expanded from his eyebrows to his forehead.

Leaning forward, Clara took a look at the house’s surroundings, but it was framed by other buildings and there didn’t seem to be a quiet place for them to land the TARDIS without being noticed. “Can we land somewhere close and… inconspicuous?”

The Doctor shrugged in response as he pulled the lever once more. “We’ll see.”

This time, when the TARDIS set into motion, the sound was a familiar one and before they had even opened the door, Clara knew that their landing had been a success. She grabbed the very last present and headed towards the door, eager to get this entire thing over with. The Doctor followed her on her heels.

Yet as the TARDIS door opened, Clara found that her good spirits vanished immediately and it took her a moment to realise the full extent of their predicament and what they would have to do about it. The roof. They had landed on the house’s roof.

Next to her, Clara could hear the Doctor exhale sharply right before he pulled the fake beard off his face. “I hate Santa,” he growled and grumpily nodded towards the chimney.

With a deep breath, Clara stepped closer and looked down the chimney and as much as she loathed it when the Doctor was right, she had to agree with him. She hated Santa, too.

“I don’t suppose we can just… toss it down?” the Doctor asked, throwing her a hopeful look, but as much as Clara craved putting her feet up, she wouldn’t allow an innocent girl to pick her Christmas present out of the ash on Christmas morning.

“Absolutely not,” she replied before her voice took on a weary tone. “Look, there’s a ladder right there. We’ll just climb down and get it over with. I mean, it’s sort of the tradition anyway.”

“A stupid one,” he muttered between his teeth.

Yet all of his complaints amounted to nothing as Clara took the initiative and reached for the first rung, swinging her body over to make the descent. The Doctor had no choice but to follow her and together, they slowly made their way down the chimney. Despite the exhaustion, Clara felt a rush of excitement course through her veins. She was dressed as an elf and in the company of _Santa Claus_ on Christmas Eve, delivering presents that would make a lot of children very happy. The regret over not having a quiet evening had disappeared somewhere along the way and Clara found herself smiling.

However, as they reached the bottom of the ladder, Clara suddenly became aware of a sound and when the Doctor joined her in the confinement of the hearth, she placed her finger on her lips to hush him. In return, he threw her a puzzled look.

The more time they spent inside the hearth, the clearer the sounds became and after a while, Clara recognised them as hushed voices talking and she felt her heart sink a little. The family hadn’t gone to bed yet.

“Why are they still awake?” the Doctor muttered into her ear, his breath palpable on her skin and somehow, the sensation made her skin ripple in goosebumps.

It was the constriction of their hiding place and the sudden proximity that managed to fluster her for a brief moment before she regained her composure.

“I’ve no idea,” she whispered in reply.

Next to her, the Doctor shuffled to get in a more comfortable position, but as small as the chimney had been, the hearth just didn’t provide enough space for two people to move around. No matter how they positioned themselves, their bodies were touching no matter what they did.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait,” he grumbled and Clara could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t very keen on the prospect.

Clara knew why that was. Even though he had warmed up to her during the last two years, this incarnation of him just wasn’t very touchy-feely and he appreciated his personal space. Unfortunately for the Doctor, there wasn’t so very much of that inside the hearth.

“It’s late,” Clara tried to reassure him, “I’m sure they’ll go to sleep soon.”

Even though the hearth was shielded by a grid, Clara bent down and peeked into the living room through the gaps. It was a small house and she could tell why the TARDIS had been unable to land, but a massive Christmas tree still occupied the lounge. It took her a while to make out the inhabitants among the extensive decor, but Clara eventually spotted them all cuddled up on the sofa. A smile spread across her face when she saw how comfortable they were, but the smile was accompanied by something else. Clara felt a profound sadness because this family had something Clara would never have. After the loss of Danny and her adventures with the Doctor, she had come to realise something. She could only have either one of them and by now, Clara knew that she couldn’t possibly give up the Doctor, not for anything in the world, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be sad about missing out on the romance.

“What do you see?” The Doctor’s question tore her out of her thoughts and Clara lifted herself up once again, but she had misjudged the space within the hearth and promptly collided with the Doctor’s chest.

“Oh, um, sorry,” she mumbled quickly and tried to distance herself from him, but the walls around them wouldn’t allow it. “There’s nothing. Just a couple on the sofa.”

The Doctor nodded in return, but she knew that he felt uncomfortable from the way he was desperate to avoid eye contact. For some reason, it made her a little angry. They had known each other for years and he had even started to hug her, so to Clara, being stuck in a chimney together shouldn’t be a big deal for him.

“Look, can you at least try to look at little less disgusted?” she demanded in a hushed tone.

In response, the Doctor frowned at her. “I’m not disgusted.”

“Yes, you are. Our hips are touching and you look disgusted which I find just a little bit insulting.”

To her surprise, the Doctor scoffed. “I’m really not.”

Clara opened her mouth to protest, but her reply was cut short when the sound of music suddenly filled the room. She recognised the song as a Christmas classic she had listened to ever since she was a child but hadn’t actually heard in a couple of years. Yet the familiar tune of _Mele Kalikimaka_ still managed to drive away at least part of her anger.

When she peered through the grid into the living room, she saw that the couple had started to dance and as she came back up to let the Doctor know, Clara noticed the grin on his face.

It was a thoroughly ridiculous situation, an utterly typical example of her adventures with the Doctor and she found herself stifling a laugh. It didn’t matter how often she and the Doctor argued or what they argued about, it didn’t matter that he hated hugs now and he looked cross half the time. Despite everything, they knew that they loved each other and if that wasn’t the proper Christmas spirit, Clara didn’t know what was.

The words crossed her lips at the spur of the moment and she regretted them a second later, but it didn’t matter. The words needed out. “I love you,” Clara told him.

At first, the Doctor looked surprised, to say the least, and he didn’t respond for the longest of moments. But as the song played on in the background and the proximity between them grew a little too much to bear, the Doctor bent forward and closed the distance between them. On Christmas Eve, stuck in a hearth inside a stranger’s house, wearing a Santa and elf costume, the Doctor kissed her for the very first time.

* * *

When they finally returned to her flat, the Doctor still hadn’t managed to make eye contact with Clara and by now, she suspected that it would take a few weeks before he would be able to look at her again. Truth was, Clara herself struggled to face her friend after what had happened in the hearth between the two of them. The kiss had felt somewhere between long overdue and utterly unexpected and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

After finally delivering the last present and climbing the ladder back up in silence, the Doctor had landed his TARDIS back in her living room where Santa and his faithful elf were already waiting for them. Upon seeing the two of them, Santa Claus burst into laughter.

“You two took the going down chimneys a bit too seriously, didn’t you?” he asked, howling with laughter. “You realise that’s a myth?! I don’t actually do that anymore.”

“That’s cause you no longer fit, Santa,” the Doctor growled as he made his way past the sofa and out of the lounge while Clara tried in vain to hide the ash stains on the borrowed costume.

Yet Santa Claus didn’t seem to pay any attention to the dirt any longer, instead, he gawked at the spot the Doctor had previously occupied, looking terribly insulted. It took him a moment to shift his attention back to Clara and when he did, there was a hint of curiosity on his face. Slowly, the curious look turned into amusement.

“Ha! You two were snogging on duty!” he exclaimed, raising a hand to point at Clara. “And about time, too!”

 

At first, she was too shocked to say anything and her mouth merely fell open. What was she supposed to say? Apologise for not being focused? Deny it? Kick Santa out of her flat for good?

“Oh, don’t give me that!” Santa said with a dismissive gesture. “I’m Santa Claus, I know everything and you two only skipped the naughty list because you helped me out of a tight spot. You’ll find your presents under the tree.”

Blushing mercilessly, Clara finally found her voice again. “Um, thanks,” she spluttered.

“Well,” he muttered, “my work here is done, I suppose.”

He struggled into a standing position and the elf quickly came to his aid to help him stand with the heavy cast. Once he stood upright, Santa smiled towards Clara, a mischievous and yet grateful smile.

“Be good,” he told her. “And tell the Doctor to be good, too.”

Clara smiled at him in return. “Never,” she chuckled and waved him goodbye.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Santa said with a sigh and when Clara blinked, the living room was empty. Santa Claus and the elf had left.

 

After taking a deep breath, Clara gathered up her courage to face the Doctor and followed the sounds of the coffee maker into the kitchen where she found the Time Lord pretending to flick through a magazine. He had already cast off his silly costume and was now wearing his favourite holey jumper. Suddenly, Clara felt a little stupid for still wearing the short costume that bared her ankles, but it didn’t really matter and she doubted that the Doctor would even take notice.

“Santa has gone,” she announced.

At last, the Doctor looked up, but she was under the impression that he was staring at a random spot behind her rather than directly into her eyes. “Oh, alright,” he replied and cleared his throat a little awkwardly. “I supposed I should be on my way then. Don’t want to intrude on your quiet family Christmas.”

He rose to his feet and crossed the kitchen, heading straight back to his TARDIS, but the truth was, Clara didn’t want him to leave any longer. She hadn’t wanted him to ever since she had spotted the dancing couple, she hadn’t wanted him to ever since the kiss. Quickly, Clara hurried after him and caught him just in time before the Doctor stepped into his time machine.

“He left us presents,” she called after him.

The Doctor spun around on his heels and for the first time since their kiss, he looked straight at her, the confusion written all over his face. Clara could tell that there was a lot going through his mind right now, but before he had a chance to voice any of his thoughts, she decided to continue.

She had made up her mind when they got stuck in the hearth. Clara didn’t want a quiet family Christmas, not really, what she wanted was someone to share the Christmas season with, someone who would stick around. She wanted what the couple had that she had spied on and she wanted it with the Doctor.

“You could stay,” Clara suggested hopefully, throwing the Doctor a shy smile. “We could, um, watch a movie or something and then open the presents in the morning.”

The Doctor seemed to consider it for a while and when he was done, a frown appeared on his forehead. “What about your family?”

She chuckled. “I think I can come up with a story that explains your presence which doesn’t involve aliens and regeneration.”

Slowly, he features began to light up and Clara felt her heart skip a beat when she realised that he would say yes. The Doctor was going to stay for Christmas.

He shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “Movie, presents and food sounds nice.”

 

Half an hour later, the Doctor was sitting next to her on the sofa, his hands clutching the popcorn bowl while his eyes were focused on _It’s A Wonderful Life_. Clara leaned her head against his shoulder with a happy sigh and even though it wasn’t quite the same thing she had witnessed earlier, it was _them_ and Clara was sure that the rest would fall into place eventually. All they had needed was a little help from Santa Claus and Clara vowed to thank him in her letter next year because it was the best Christmas present she could have wished for.


End file.
